


leave it all behind

by effing-numpties (avenging_cap)



Series: evermore songfics [4]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Canon Divergence, M/M, Retelling, Road Trippin, Song: happiness (Taylor Swift), Songfic, The Cheesecake Factory, processing a breakup, simon and baz being idiots in the background, wayward son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap/pseuds/effing-numpties
Summary: "And in the disbelief, I can't face reinventionI haven't met the new me yet"-happiness, taylor swiftPenelope tries to deal with her breakup with Micah, but she doesn't know what her future holds anymore.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce/Micah Cordero, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, penelope bunce/herself
Series: evermore songfics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103921
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	leave it all behind

**Author's Note:**

> We love processing breakups in this household!! This is so self-indulgent because this song is very relatable to me on so many levels, and I hope I've done it (and Penny) justice.
> 
> Here's track 7, [happiness](https://open.spotify.com/track/55Vf4bimc1Rtfg0PAQRAo2?si=38af469e7d1949fc)

I wish I was above the trees, blanketed in the soft blue of the sky. Then I might be able to see this for what it is.

Instead, I’m right down in it, laying in the back seat of this ridiculous car. The wind whips over my face, stinging the places where my tears have already dried out my skin. It’s impossible to hear anything but the wind, so I’m left out of whatever nonsense Simon and Baz are saying in the front.

It’s just me and my thoughts. Lovely.

It’s just going to be me for the foreseeable future. That still stings as much as it did when I was standing in Micah's living room. Sure, it made some sense when he was yelling at me, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a shock. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t _hurt._

 _We haven’t talked for two years. You never listen to anything I say, not really. I’ve already broken up with you dozens of times._ A fresh wave of embarrassment washes over me. It was humiliating, standing there and having my faults explained to me.

It’s difficult to believe that it had been six months since we properly talked. I just kept going every day, busy fighting the Humdrum with Simon or trying to find Baz’s mum’s killer. I was perfectly fine with how much we talked, and I thought Micah was too. According to him, though, the music stopped long ago. I just never stopped dancing.

Why should I have stopped? I was so sure that I had that part of my life figured out; we were going to get _married_. Micah surely would have moved to London to be with me, and we would have had a lovely magickal wedding. Simon would have been my best man, and perhaps he would have even fought for my hand, like in those old magickal marriage rituals. I can see it so clearly even still.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard to accept.

“I thought we knew we would be together,” I had said.

“That’s not how it works, Penny! You don’t get to just check me off on your list and move on to the next thing,” Micah shouted.

“But we were happy,” I whispered uselessly. Micah certainly didn’t hear me, as a girl emerged from the basement, shutting the door behind her with a bang. Her hair was long and dark, and she wore a flowered sundress.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Micah’s face turned soft as he looked at her, and I just _knew_.

“Penelope, this is Erin,” Micah said without taking his eyes off her.

My mouth went dry, and I could feel my eyes filling with tears already.

“It’s so nice to meet one of Micah’s friends,” she smiled.

It was so sweet and innocent that I was sure he hadn’t told her about me. Was I so insignificant that I wasn’t worth sharing? He went on and on about my involvement with Simon and how insignificant _he_ was to _me_. It seemed we were both at fault here.

I stood there, just staring at them. No one tells you what to do, I realized, when a good man hurts you, and you know you hurt him too.

The only thought that registered made my stomach burn. Five words, over and over: _They’re going to get married._

“She must be a beautiful fool to get caught up with you,” I said, surprising myself. They both looked horrified.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

The tears fell then, leaving hot tracks as they spilled down my cheeks. I turned and sprinted to the kerb. I didn’t dare look back.

It’s only been an hour or so since we left, but it feels like it’s been years. I’m bone tired; I don’t know that I could pull myself into a seated position right now. I feel like a mountain after an avalanche. Everything I thought I knew about my future has slipped away, and I’m staring into a black hole. It’s dark and empty and _lonely_ , and I don’t know what happens next.

 _Who am I without him?_ Maybe it’s not without _him_ so much as without a way forward. Without some sense of certainty about who’s beside me when I’m old. My stomach twists at the thought. I can’t face that. I can’t jump into the black hole. In fact, I’m quite comfortable laying here and letting it slowly suck me in, thank you.

I open my eyes and look at the sky again. I blink hard, realizing that the clouds are moving, but we aren’t.

“What’s happening?” I grumble.

“We’re getting food,” Baz says.

I don’t want to deal with Simon and Baz yet, so I climb over the side of the car and drag myself toward the restaurant, wiping my tears away as I go.

 _The Cheesecake Factory?_ Simon definitely had most of the say in this.

I try not to think about how ridiculous I must look as I ask the hostess for a table and scoot into the booth. I can feel my eyes swelling up and sinking in. I feel hollow, and that black hole I was staring at seems to have migrated to my stomach.

Finally Simon and Baz come clambering through the restaurant (perhaps I should say _Simon_ comes clambering, since Baz simply trails behind) until they spot me. I give them a little wave and go back to staring at the wall.

“Hey, Penny,” Simon says softly, sliding into the booth across from me. Baz looks horrified for a moment, like he’s realized he either has to sit next to Simon or me. These two are impossible.

Baz sits next to Simon shyly and they both tense up. I open the menu to avoid dealing with their awkwardness. There are pages upon pages of dishes, and it’s all too much for me to take. I close the menu again, forced to look up at them.

They’re both looking at me like I might run away if they say the wrong thing. To be fair, I might.

“Did you two get into a row?” Simon asks.

I shake my head. “Micah broke up with me—well, apparently he’d broken up with me a long time ago.”

Simon’s eyes just about fall out of his head. “But you two were so _happy_.”

I’d said that to Micah, of course, but now I’m not so sure. Were we happy, or was it just convenient? It always felt more like I was video chatting with an old friend than the person I was going to marry.

“Maybe it was all in my head,” I whisper. “Maybe I just wanted to check off the boyfriend box and be done with it.”

The waitress comes over as the first few tears of what I know is another flood begin to fall.

“What can I get you kids?” she asks, smiling. I’m certain her eyes haven’t landed on me yet.

I don’t even hear what they order. Simon’s words echo in my head. What even is _happiness?_ Is it going on an ill-planned road trip with your friends? Is it calling someone once every few months or getting a letter once a term? I’m not sure I know.

“Penny.” Simon kicks at my foot under the table.

“I’ll have what they’re having.”

“I got a burger. You don’t eat beef,” Simon says.

“Oh, I’ll have whatever people have, then,” I sigh.

“People like buffalo blasts,” the waitress says, trying not to look taken aback when she spots me.

“Is buffalo still beef?” Simon asks, concerned.

The waitress is failing to disguise her impatience. “It’s chicken with buffalo sauce.”

“That’s fine,” I say before Simon can open his mouth again. Anything will do. I’m not sure I could swallow food if I tried.

The waitress nods and walks away, and I blink, releasing a cascade of tears.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Baz asks.

Simon looks at me and my heart sinks. “There is no plan,” I say.

“Excuse me?” Baz’s hands are clenched into fists.

“You heard me.”

It probably wasn’t the best idea to leave the country without a plan, but I hadn’t expected things with Micah would end like this. I figured he would join us and help us across the country. Just the thought brings out a small sob.

“Why don’t you look up hotels in the area?” Simon suggests.

“My phone died.”

“What about you, Baz?”

Baz takes a deep breath. “I didn’t get international coverage. My family doesn’t know I’m here.”

Simon’s eyes widen. “Do your parents know we’re here, Penny?”

I shake my head.

“Let me get this straight,” Simon says. “You both left the country without telling your parents.”

We both nod.

“Fuck,” Simon says, blushing as he makes eye contact with the waitress.

I pick up one of the fried triangles immediately and shove it in my mouth to avoid further questioning. Simon looks relieved that it’s acceptable to eat in my presence, and it’s a bit embarrassing that he thinks I’m that fragile. I suppose I am, though. I all but fell apart in Micah’s living room earlier.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “I just thought this would work. I thought talking to Micah would work.”

My voice breaks as I say Micah’s name. I take another bite of the buffalo blast (which is quite good, actually) to disguise my tears, but it doesn’t work. I’m full on weeping in the middle of the Cheesecake Factory. I’ve fully ripped open the wound that tore open my chest in his living room.

Baz rushes to my side of the booth and takes the food out of my hand.

“Can’t have you choking. Imagine the embarrassment of dying at the Cheesecake factory,” Baz laughs softly.

He lets me rest my head on his shoulder, and he’s got one hand on my back drawing slow, soothing circles. It’s strangely comforting and very unlike Baz, to me anyway. I don’t care to know what the two of them get up to when I’m not around (and I’ve seen enough shit in my _kitchen_ to have an idea). I shudder on impulse, which Baz attributes to the issue at hand.

“You gave it your best,” he says.

 _What do I give after that?_ I have nothing left to give. Not to this trip, not to myself.

It’s not like what I had to give was appreciated, anyway. I was always too much for him. I talked too much about Simon, planned too much. I almost laugh at that one, given our current situation, but it comes out as another sob.

Baz shifts and is full-on hugging me now. He’s soft and strong, even if he’s cold. I don’t know how Simon can stand how lifeless Baz feels at times. I immediately feel bad for thinking it because he’s treating me so kindly.

I’m utterly lost. Aside from being basically lost in America, I’m lost in my future. Micah was the one sure thing amid all the chaos. We were sure of each other. Well, I suppose I was sure of him, but he wasn’t at all sure of me. It’s hard not to feel a bit betrayed, even though part of me knew it was coming.

Suddenly, Baz stiffens. “Snow, switch seats with me. I’m going to drain her dry,” he says.

And there’s the Baz I know. I let him drop me and I move a bit closer to the wall. He rushes out of the restaurant a bit too quickly to not be suspicious, and Simon moves to sit next to me.

“What do you say we order some cheesecake?”

We do. It’s actually delicious, which I suppose is why it’s called the _factory_. Baz comes back looking much less pale than he did before, and I try not to think about what he had to do to remedy that. He makes us move over so that we three are all sat on the same side of the booth. It’s ridiculous, but it’s oddly comforting.

“What have we got here?” Baz asks.

Simon points at each slice: Original, Toasted Marshmallow S’mores Galore, and Chocolate Tuxedo Cream. Baz devours the S’mores slice (he’s got such a disgusting sweet tooth) and Simon looks at him adoringly. It’s almost like watching my relationship go down in flames has helped them rekindle theirs. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

When we get back in the car, I feel a bit less like a husk of a person.

“Can we just keep driving?” I ask as Simon starts the car.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just drive until the sun comes up.” I’m not sure why I’ve suggested it, but I think that if I stop going I’ll fall apart, and I’ve had enough of that for today.

Simon breaks into a smile. I can hear Baz grumbling something about his beauty sleep from the front seat, but Simon puts his hand on his knee and that shuts him up. I roll my eyes and Simon catches me.

“Feeling more like yourself already.” He smiles.

The evening is warm, and the last rays of sun comfort my tired limbs. The further we drive, the flatter and emptier things get. The night sky opens up around us. I feel like I’m getting a full breath for the first time since this afternoon.

Simon’s blasting some ridiculous song on the radio and banging his head along to it.

“The band’s called Kansas! Isn’t that a state?” I hear him yell over the wind.

“Congratulations, Snow, you know one thing about America,” Baz says begrudgingly, though I’m sure I catch the beginnings of a smile creeping up on his face.

I’m surprised to find myself smiling too.

As the night goes on and more miles are put between Micah and I, my future seems less daunting. I make a list.

Things I don’t know: if I’ll ever find love again, if my parents will kill me when I return home, if Micah ever _really_ loved me.

Things I do know: I have Simon and Baz, even if they’re ridiculously stupid, and I’m still me. I’ve still got magic, which is much better than the romantic kind.

I think I fall asleep for a few moments throughout the night, though I can’t find it in me to feel guilty. I feel as though I’ve lived six months in one day, so I think I deserved it. I open my eyes as the soft light of the morning beckons. The sky is lit up in glorious pinks and purples, dappled with gorgeous flickers of light through the clouds.

It’s all behind me now, I realize. Only geographically, of course, but it’s still a weight off my shoulders. I’m going forward, even with all the hurt. I may be carrying the black hole in my stomach, but I’m okay.

Baz’s scarf is rippling in the wind, and I try to imagine all the pain and hurt blowing along with it, disappearing into the soft morning sky. _Leave it all behind._

Simon is singing “Here Comes the Sun” wildly off key, and Baz is laughing.

“Oh, knock it off, Si!” I yell, my throat dry from all the crying. In spite of it all, I’m smiling.

My eyes are swollen, and I’m sad. My stomach aches and my nose is dry and my head hurts, but I’m smiling with my friends. I feel warm and light for the first time in hours as I realize that, while there was happiness because of Micah, there’ll be happiness after him, too. I didn’t think it was possible, but both of those things can be true.

I have no idea what this trip holds or what my lack of a plan means for us, but at least we have this: driving into the sunrise, groggy and delirious from our lack of sleep. A laugh escapes me at the absurdity of it all.

“You all right?” Baz calls.

I will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://effing-numpties.tumblr.com/)


End file.
